Netflix and (Actually) Chill
by heatherkw
Summary: "Thanks for taking care of me," he muttered. "It was my turn to look after you for once." She lightly tapped his chest with her index finger, right above his heart. "To protect your heart." / Or where Cameron gets sick, and Kirsten takes care of him. For Stitchers Secret Santa 2017. One-shot, camsten fluff.


A/N: Written for Stitchers Secret Santa 2017 for breakfastfoodclub on tumblr.

Just finally getting around to uploading, because FF didn't cooperate with uploads when I initially tried.

Enjoy the pure camsten fluff!

* * *

It was all Camille's fault.

She had to come into work sick, insisting that she was completely fine to help with their new case. Camille had used all of her sick days for the year, and with her upcoming vacation with Amanda planned, she didn't have the spare vacation days to take off of work.

She was barely able to brief them on the case, before Maggie ordered her to go home. The slight sway of her body and the sheen on her forehead didn't help her case, when she tried to convince Maggie that she could finish out the day.

That's how Cameron found himself, sniffling and coughing with the flu just a few days later. His current predicament was alternating between being too hot and too cold. He put on layers and snuggled underneath a comforter, only to find himself sweating fifteen minutes later and taking great effort to escape his comforter.

He must have dozed off, because he woke to the sound of a knock at his door. He groaned and pulled the blanket over his head.

Kirsten pressed her ear against the door, listening for any sign that he was awake. Hearing nothing from the other side, she dug her key from her bag and opened the door.

She tiptoed inside and shut the door quietly. She kicked off her shoes, set down her supplies in the kitchen that she brought to nurse him back to health, and went to check on him.

He was laying on the couch, bundled up in a hoodie and cocooned in a fluffy comforter. She placed the back of her hand to his forehead. He was really warm and was likely running a fever.

Not wanting to wake him, she tugged his comforter up a little and returned to the kitchen.

She unpacked the nearly overflowing bag. She wasn't sure what he needed, so she got nearly one of everything; decongestant, cough suppressant, fever reducer, cough drops, and a handful of combination drugs. She _may_ have gone overboard, just a tad. She knew that he'd likely want something when he woke up, so she left everything on the counter.

Reaching the bottom of the bag, she unpacked the few cans of soup she got. Cameron had most everything else in his well stocked kitchen, but he typically made soup from scratch. And Kirsten didn't have the skills for that.

She retrieved a pot and a can opener, and started heating up chicken noodle soup.

When Cameron woke, the first thing he noticed was that annoying message on his TV; the 'are you still watching this show?' message on Netflix. He was sick, and other than sleeping, of course he was still watching.

He heard a gentle clang coming from his kitchen. He shifted so he was partially upright. "Kirsten?" He asked.

"You're up! How are you feeling?"

He extracted himself from his very comfortable covers, that were now too hot. "Other than feeling like I'm in an oven, just peachy." He tore off his hoodie, which took a great amount of effort to keep his glasses on straight.

"I'm making you soup, it'll be ready in just a minute." She turned back, stirring it with the spoon she had out.

He padded over to the kitchen and took a seat at his island. "What's all this?" He pointed as the assortment of drugs that she must have purchased.

She turned back to face him, catching the sight of him in a navy tank top and disheveled hair sticking up in every direction. "Well I wasn't sure what you wanted..." She trailed off and sent him an apologetic smile.

He reached across the counter to take her hands in his. "Thank you, Stretch."

She smiled warmly and patted his hands before returning to his soup. It was now a slow boil, so she turned off the burner. She got out a bowl, poured some of the soup, and set it in front of him.

He selected one of the boxes marked 'for cold and flu,' quickly read over the instructions, and popped two capsules out of the foil package and into his mouth.

Kirsten grabbed two waters from his fridge and passed him one. He chased down his medication with water, and nearly drained half the bottle from thirst.

"Care to join me for some Netflix?" He asked with a half-smile.

She extended a hand to help him up and juggled their waters with the other, while he picked up his soup. "So, what were you watching?"

"Stranger Things," he replied with a slight duck of his head.

She bumped his shoulder with her own. "I can't believe you started it without me." Stranger things season two was their next show they were watching together, once they had free time. Nothing like getting sick to force you to have free time.

He collapsed on the sofa, shoving his comforter aside to make room for the two of them. "In my defense, I was rewatching season one... And I didn't exactly pay much attention. I remember seeing the restaurant owner call the social worker about Eleven, and woke up to two and a half episodes later." He sipped a tentative spoonful of the soup, finding it to be the perfect temperature.

"I know it's not your famous homemade soup, but I was hoping you'd still like it," she said shyly.

"It's great Kirsten, really. You didn't have to do all this for me. We could have just ordered in," he suggested.

She leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek. "Of course, I did. I think it's in the job description," she joked.

"If you say so, girlfriend." Not wanting to share any more germs with her, he regrettably couldn't kiss her. So instead, he winked.

She blushed lightly and picked up the remote. "So, are we starting back with season one?" She was already clicking up a few episodes and selected play on the very first.

"Whatever you want, Cupcake."

She leaned into him a little bit, bringing her arm through his.

* * *

Cameron at least made it through the first episode this time. At some point during the second episode, Kirsten heard a light snoring next to her. She rewound to the beginning of that episode and exited the app.

She carefully placed a pillow where her shoulder was, and pulled the comforter into Cameron's lap, just in case he got cold. Then she went to put away the leftover soup as quietly as she could. She cleaned up the kitchen and put all the medication into his bathroom cabinet.

Somewhere in between, Cameron woke up. She came back into the living room and was greeted with a sleepy grin, his glasses slightly askew.

"How long was I out?" He asked.

"Not long enough. Maybe an hour?" She walked over to him, adjusted his glasses, and pulled him up by the hand. "Let's get you to bed."

He didn't have enough energy to argue, so he just hummed in response and followed her.

He collapsed into bed, feeling her pull the covers up to him. "You're staying, right?" He mumbled.

She placed a kiss to his forehead. "Always." It was a little earlier than their usual bedtime, but she figured he needed the extra sleep, and she didn't mind.

A few moments later, he felt the gentle dip of the bed and an arm snake across his chest.

He opened his eyes just enough to see his girlfriend in one of his Henley shirts. She had insisted that his shirts were more comfortable, and took over his closet months ago. Not that he minded. "Thanks for taking care of me," he muttered.

"It was my turn to look after you for once." She lightly tapped his chest with her index finger, right above his heart. "To protect your heart."

That had become their little saying, just between the two of them over the course of their relationship. They would say it to each other to convey more than an 'I love you,' and the other would know that they were worried about them. Usually, it was in response to Cameron doing something idiotic, like chasing down an armed suspect. But occasionally it was aimed at Kirsten for cutting a bounce too close. One particular instance she had bounced with only one-tenth of a second to spare.

But those were risks of the job, and they both understood that.

He smiled at the memory when he first said that to her. He pulled her in closer and pressed a firm kiss to her forehead. "I thought that was my job."

"You forget that sometimes you need someone to take care of you. And that's where I come in. Get some sleep, Cam," she said gently

"Night, K."

Cameron was fast asleep within seconds. Kirsten wasn't that lucky. She kept thinking about how awful he looked earlier, even though he put up a convincing front. That is, to anyone that wasn't Kirsten.

She wasn't the superstitious type, but she figured it couldn't hurt to stack the deck in their favor. Even if it was from a psychic.

She opened her top nightstand drawer and immediately found what she was looking for. The quartz that he had given her to protect her heart. She cherished it ever since that day, and snuck it into his palm just a few short days later when he was rushed to the hospital.

She rolled it between her fingers and placed it underneath his edge of his pillow.

That gave her some relief, and she fell into a restful sleep within a few minutes.

* * *

The next morning, Kirsten woke up first. Not wanting to wake Cameron, as he desperately needed sleep, she carefully got out of bed and threw on jeans.

Despite Cameron's insistence on teaching her to cook, she figured that breakfast in bed would be much more appealing (and less of a disaster) if she picked up something from his favorite café just around the corner from his apartment.

She placed an order with a few quick taps on her phone, left a note on her pillow in case he woke up, and was out the door within a few minutes.

When she got back, she peeked into the bedroom, seeing that Cameron was still asleep.

She went back to the kitchen and got out the breakfast quiches, hash browns, and pastries. She paired that with fruit and made tea for the both of them. Coincidentally enough, Cameron bought serving trays when he surprised Kirsten with breakfast in bed for her birthday a few months prior. She got them out of his pantry and loaded up both trays with breakfast.

She picked up one tray and carried it into the bedroom, meeting a very sleepy and confused Cameron.

His eyes softened when he met her face. "I missed you," he said.

She smiled brightly. "I thought you'd still be asleep. You need your rest." She set the tray down above his knees and leaned it to press a kiss to his lips.

He kissed her back with the slightest pressure, before realizing "-I don't want you to get sick," he whispered against her lips.

"I think I'll take my chances." She smirked and went back in for another kiss, as Cameron backed away.

"You say that now," he reiterated. "Just don't blame me when you get sick."

"Fine," she pouted. "Just eat your breakfast. I'll go grab mine and join you."

She shimmied out of her jeans, favoring pajama pants instead, and returned with her breakfast.

She pulled up the menu on his TV and settled in next to him. "Netflix and chill?" she asked. "But actually chill," she added.

Cameron nearly choked on his bite of a pastry, but nodded after he regained composure. "Yeah, sure."

They had finished breakfast and were into the second episode of the day, when Cameron had a thought. "Do I need to call in? Or did you let Maggie know already?"

"I texted her last night. She gave me explicit instructions that you were not allowed back at work for seventy-two hours. Camille got half the lab sick!"

"Well at least I'm not the only one." He let out a light laugh and pulled her tighter.

So, they spent the day relaxing and with the occasional nap (on Cameron's part).

* * *

The day they were supposed to go back to work, Cameron was feeling better, but Kirsten had caught the flu. Which turned into another few days of soup and binge watching shows together.

He returned the favor by making her homemade chicken noodle soup, and breakfast in bed.


End file.
